


A Sleepless Weekend

by ImagineBeatles



Category: The Beatles (Band)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-02
Updated: 2018-08-02
Packaged: 2019-06-20 15:38:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,839
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15537426
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ImagineBeatles/pseuds/ImagineBeatles
Summary: John needs to look after a four-months-old Julian for the weekend and asks Paul for help, since he hasn’t got a clue what he’s doing.





	A Sleepless Weekend

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on tumblr in 2016 in two parts, now merged into one

“Are you sure you’ll be fine? I could call Mimi to help if you want to? I mean, I’m sure she wouldn’t mind. She’s crazy about the little guy and-” Cynthia started once again as she gathered the last of her things before she’d be heading out of the door to visit her family. John sweetly lay a hand on her shoulder to shush her.

“Cyn, love, It’s fine. I’ll manage, really. He is _my_ son after all.” John tried to sooth his wife with a broad a smile. Her lips curled up in a forced smile at that, but she nodded anyway, giving into John.

“I know. I shouldn’t worry. I- I just don’t want anything to happen to him.” She said quietly and John pulled her into a hug, wrapping his arms around his wife and pulling her against his chest, before kissing the top of her head.

“Nothing will happen, I promise you. I can handle him for a weekend.”

“You’ll call immediately if something’s wrong, right?”

“Yes. Of course, I will. I’ll call tonight anyway, to let you know how everything is going. Besides, I can’t go to sleep without hearing your voice first.” John spoke, kissing her head again. Cynthia smiled into her husband’s chest and hugged him back. When she tried to pull away again, John let go of her reluctantly, but grinned when she leaned in for a small kiss.

“You know where to find everything?” She couldn’t help but ask as she walked towards to door with her things. John followed her and watched as she pulled on her coat and wrapped a colourful scarf around her neck, before grabbing her bags.

“Yes, Cyn. You’ve told me, remember. You even wrote it down. Now go. Everything will be fine, I promise you. Julian loves me! We’ll have a great time! Now, don’t worry and just enjoy yourself.” He told her, leaning against the wall with crossed arms, trying to look confident and tough. Cynthia nodded and grabbed her car keys, before giving John one last peck on his cheek.

“I love you.” She said, making John sigh as he looked her over. She looked so gorgeous. What he had ever done to deserve her, he didn’t know.

“I love you too, Cyn.” He replied with a sigh, curling his hand around her cheek to kiss her probably before letting her go. Cynthia blushed at the attention and her eyes seemed to twinkle as she walked back to the door and opened it. John watched as she stepped outside, the sun shining onto her blond hair, the reflection almost blinding him.

“Oh, and John,” Cynthia said as she halted in the door and looked back, “Don’t… you know… get angry or frustrated with him or anything. It’s not his fault his father is incapable of understanding him. And please, don’t get drunk. And don’t let him drink any beer either. It’s not good for him. And it’s not funny either.” She told him this sternly, looking him dead in the eye and John swallowed thickly, before hastily nodding. God, his wife could be intimidating when it got to her child. With one last wave of her hand, she walked away, two bags in her hand and hurried over to the car. She threw the bags in the back and quickly stepped in and started the engine. John waved at her as he watched her drive off. Sighing, he closed the door and walked back into the living room where his son lay sound asleep.

            The first forty minutes went by easily enough. Julian slept for most of the time and once he had woken up he was mostly quiet as he lay in his father’s arms as his father listened to some music, rocking him in the rhythm of the music or making him dance, or sort of dance. Rather, he moved his son’s arms and legs around on the beat as he lay on the couch in front of him, giggling in amusement, occasionally yawning or clapping his small little hands. John couldn’t stop smiling as he looked down at his son. As he grew older he started to see lot more of Cynthia in him. Some people said he looked like him, but John couldn’t see it.

However, it was still a scary thought that he had actually created this… this human. It was almost unbelievable. It was still so tiny and fragile that John couldn’t believe he would eventually turn into an actual person. He was still afraid he was going to hurt the little fellow, or that he would start crying and he wouldn’t be able to stop him or that something would happen and he’d lose him. That would be terrible. He loved the little kid. And slowly he did start to realise and comprehend that this was _his son_. His! He and Cyn had made this. And he couldn’t cock it up. His son deserved a happy life with a happy family. He would give that to his son. He’d do this best to give that to him. He didn’t want the same to happen to him as that had happened to himself.

Of course, the happy period couldn’t go on forever and soon Julian started pouting, looking up at his father with huge, wet eyes, his tiny little lips trembling.

“No… oh please… shh… it’s fine, Jules. I’m here. There’s no need to cry. We’re having fun, aren’t we? Yes, we are. No, don’t cry. Please. Let’s hear that giggle again, yeah?” John tried, talking in that soft baby voice he had heard others use. When it didn’t seem to work John tried pulling some silly faces, but only seemed to make things worse. Soon, Julian shut his eyes, opened his mouth and started wailing. He was crying out. The force of it surprised John and for a second he didn’t know what to do. He simply stared at the baby crying on the couch, seemingly lost. His tiny little hands reached up for him when he wasn’t being picked up.

“Shit. Come on, Jules. This isn’t what we’ve agreed on, is it. You were going to be a happy little fellow for your father. Happy fellows don’t cry, remember. Oh please, stop.” John tried, almost begging the little lad to stop as he carefully picked him up in his hands, making sure to support his head, and cradles him into his arms. Slowly he started rocking him again, still talking to him in a soft and soothing voice, but Julian only screamed over it from the top of his lungs.

“What is it then? Do you miss mummy?  She’s away for a while, but she’ll come back. I’m here to take care of you now, okay. Now it’s just you and your dad. Nothing to be upset about. No? How about your little teddy? Do you want your teddy?” John spoke softly, frowning when Julian seemed to only ignore his words. He reached for the teddy bear next to them on the couch and started playing with it before Julian’s eyes, talking to him through it in a silly voice, but Julian only cried even harder. John sighed and threw the teddy bear away, which only upset his son even more.

“Oh don’t make this any harder than it has to be. Please, Jules. Oh god, I can’t do this. Who am I trying to fool here anyways?” John asked himself aloud and quickly tried to think what Cynthia did whenever he was crying. Walking! Walking helped. Quickly, he raised to his feet and moved his son so he was lying against his chest. He placed a hand under his bum and the other against the back of his neck, and kept him as closely against him as possible, before he started walking around the room, circling the coffee table as he bounced the boy carefully up and down. Julian’s cries got less loud, but he still continued to cry into John’s ear. John huffed in annoyance. He couldn’t be hungry, could he? When was the last time Cyn fed him? An hour ago? Two hours ago? This morning? John honestly couldn’t remember. How often did he eat anyway?

“Oh shit… why are you crying, Jules? Why can’t you speak like a normal person?” John asked more to himself than to Julian. He knew he shouldn’t get angry. Indeed, it wasn’t his fault he was a crap father.

            Then there was a knock on the window. John quickly turned around to see who it was and had never felt any happier in his life as he saw Paul standing behind his window, waving at him.

“Paul! Oh thank god! There you finally are, you git. Well, come on!” John muttered with a large smile on his face, motioning Paul to go to the front door with a nod of his head. Paul nodded and quickly moved to the front door. John gave his son a kiss on the top of his head as he walked to the front door, carrying him with him.

“Yes, there’s uncle Paulie to save you, Jules. Oh god, aren’t I a lucky bastard.” He muttered softly, knowing neither Cyn, nor Paul would approve of him cursing around his four-months-old son.

“Paul! There you are! What took you so long, you bastard? I told you I needed you with this.” John said as he opened the door for his friend, who simply smiled and stepped quickly inside.

“Don’t you blame me, Lennon. You were the one who didn’t want your dearest wife to know you needed _my_ help  taking care of _your_ son.” Paul shot at him playfully, as he looked at Julian with a ridiculous smile that wasn’t even adorable anymore.

“Aw, are you upset? What is it then? Come here, let uncle Paul have a good look at you.” Paul said sweetly to the crying boy in John’s arms as he took him from him, lifting him up easily and carrying him in his arms, bouncing him rocking him  slowly from side to side. Almost immediately the boy stopped crying and went quiet in Paul’s arm, his little fingers grasping Paul’s shirt tightly as he closed his eyes and enjoyed the rocking. Paul smiled to himself and lightly kissed the side of the boy’s head and ruffled his hair as he stared at the little fellow with admiration in his eyes, as if he was looking at some precious gift. John however, stared at the little boy as if a miracle had taken place right there before his own eyes.

“How you manage to do that, I truly don’t know.” He sighed in both relief and wonder, wiping his forehead with the back of his hand to clean of some sweat. Paul merely smiled at him.

            John watched in awe as Paul sat in a chair, playing with his son, who was sitting in his lap, softly giggling and making all kinds of happy cries as Paul cuddled and tickled him and continued to talk to him in that stupid voice. He had known Paul to be capable in taking care of kids, but this was just incredible. No wonder Paul had lost his virginity when he was helping some girl babysitting. He must have swiped the girl right off her feet with the way he was with kids. Any woman’s knickers would drop to the sight of that. John couldn’t say he wasn’t even the tiniest bit affected by it. He looked so beautiful as he played with the kid. But John couldn’t help but feel a twinge of jealousy. Julian was _his_ son, after all. _He_ should be the one to make his kid feel the way he did, all happy and without a care in the world, simply enjoying his meaningless life. 

His jealousy had been bad enough to almost feel happy with Julian started crying again, this time swinging his little fists around. He frowned however, when Paul, instead of getting worried, simply laughed and tried to catch the boy’s fists with his hands.

“Oh, look who’s the pushy little guy. Just like your father, eh?” He asked, smirking up at John, who only pulled a spastic face in response, although he could still feel his cheeks heat up. How could Paul speak of such things with his son in the room? Besides, it wasn’t his fault Paul liked to tease him. If he wasn’t ‘pushy’, Paul would never give him what he wanted, anyway. He started biting on his nail as Julian continued to cry. Without as much as one sigh, moan or groan, Paul got up and carried Julian over to the kitchen. John quickly followed, curious to know what Paul was planning on doing to make Julian stop.

“John! Could you help me.” Paul called out from the kitchen before John had even left the living room. He didn’t reply, but simply stumbled into the kitchen, where Paul was standing near the stove, a sobbing Julian in one hand and an empty bottle in the other.

“When did Cyn last give him something to eat?” He asked, as he mucked about with the bottle, obviously trying to unscrew it with one hand. John walked over to Paul, offering him a hand as he told him he wasn’t sure.

“Thanks. I think he’s hungry. Could you make his bottle while I hold him?”

“Can’t I hold him?” John asked, looking doubtfully at the bottle in Paul’s hand. Paul smiled up at him as he gave John the bottle.

“You’ll manage. I’ll direct you if you need any help. Besides, you have to learn once.” He said, kissing John’s cheek, before sitting down at the kitchen table. John bit his lip as he stared at the bottle in his hand. Taking a deep breath, he decided Paul was right. What kind of father was he, if he couldn’t even feed his own son?

He put the bottle back down and opened the cabinet where he knew Cynthia kept Julian food and everything else he knew he needed. He put some water in the kettle and put it on the stove. As he waited for it to boil, he read the instructions on the package. All the while he could feel Paul watching him as he tried to shush Julian, keeping him entertained until John would be done with his food. To his surprise Julian was surprisingly silent and when John turned his head to look at him, he was watching his father with wide eyes as Paul muttered things into his ear, which John couldn’t hear. He couldn’t help but smile when his and Paul’s eyes locked. Paul gave him an encouraging smile, before turning back to the baby and cuddling him sweetly. John sighed at the image. Why could Paul look so beautiful and sweet when taking care of a baby? John knew Paul’s future kids and wife were going to be very lucky with him. But the thought didn’t make him smile.

Once the water had boiled, John quickly took it off the heat and let it stand to cool. He could hear Paul softly sing to Julian, who listened closely, as he stared up at him with his huge eyes.  John wished his son would look at _him_ like that, instead of at Paul. He never did. He only laughed when John was being silly or cried whenever he was not. He turned away from the two of them and waited for the water to cool a little more.

Once he figured it had the right temperature, he poured the right amount of water into the bottle, kneeling down to see if the water level was exactly right, like he had seen Cynthia doing. Then he added the right amount of power and tried to mix it all in perfectly, swirling the stuff around until it looked right. Turning back around, he offered the bottle to Paul with a half-hearted smile. If Paul noticed, he didn’t comment on it.

“Did you check the temperature?” Paul asked instead, looking up at his friend, and not yet taking the bottle from him. As soon as little Julian noticed the bottle, he started to cry out again as he reached for it with his small hands. John shrugged as he watched his son.

“I let the water cool?” He said. Paul shook his head.

“You need to test it. Drip some on your arm and see if it’s not too warm.” Paul told him, ignoring the sobbing child in his arms when John took the bottle away. He rolled up his sleeves before dripping some of the milk onto his arm. It felt warm, not hot per se. But what was hot for a baby? He must have looked puzzled, for Paul chuckled at him before reaching for the bottle.

“Here, let me.” He said, rolling up his sleeve with the help of his teeth, his arm tightening around Julian, and tested the warmth of the milk. When he seemed satisfied he handed to bottle to John again, making Julian wail.

“Not good?” John asked, making Paul chuckle again.

“Don’t you want to try feeding him?” He asked, smiling encouragingly. John bit his lip as he studied the bottle and then his child. He shook his head.

“You do it. He likes you better anyway.” He said, a little more bitterly than he intended.

Paul moved Julian around a little, so he was lying contently and safely in his arm, before taking the bottle and giving it to him with little encouraging words. John huffed when the boy took the bottle eagerly and started sucking with all his might, as Paul angled the bottle just right, letting him drink. He sat down on the chair opposite Paul and continued to watch.

“See? It’s easy.” Paul said as he looked back at John, who was still staring at him. He couldn’t wrap his mind around how easily Paul managed to take care of Julian.

“You try.” The words came as a shock and for a minute John wasn’t sure what to do. But Paul had already taken the bottle away from Julian and put in next to John on the table and stood up to hand John his son.

“Just let him lay in your arm and make sure to support his head. Hold the bottle on a slight angle and hold it in front of him, he’ll take it himself.” Paul said, placing Julian in John’s lap, before kneeling down in front of them, running his fingers sweetly through Julian’s light brown hair. John stared down at him as if he had gone mad, but took the bottle anyway. He took a deep breath and did as Paul said as he readied himself for the rejection, remembering how easily Julian had taken the bottle from Paul.

“Hey, there you go. Told you it was easy.” Paul suddenly said, a bright smile on his face as he watched Julian take the bottle. John looked away from his friend and down at his son. His eyes grew wide and his heart skipped a beat when he saw Julian suckling gently on the bottle, his little hands clasping together happily. The sight was marvellous and John forgot how to breath for a second when Julian looked up at him, looking straight into his eyes with the same adoration and warmth as he had done when Paul had fed him.  

“Now, just let him drink. Make sure the milk doesn’t spill from his mouth and don’t angle it too much. He will let you know when he wants more.” Paul continued, letting Julian grab his finger as he looked up at John, who couldn’t look away from his son, completely and utterly captivated by him, delight shimmering in his eyes.

“Oh god. Look at him.” He breathed in his amazement, making Paul chuckle at how adorable his friend was being.

He took in the sight of him. It was rare seeing John like this, but it made his heart flutter. When John needed to angle to bottle a little more upright, he placed in hand over John’s and helped him move, making John look down at him with that same expression.

“You’re a great father, John.” He told him, his voice being almost nothing more than a whisper, “You just need to get a chance to learn.”

            The remaining hours of the day went by pretty easily. Julian hardly ever left John’s lap, either sleeping his father’s arms and bouncing happily up and down, laughing happily and babbling nonsense. Paul stayed, and made the two of them dinner as John continued to bond with his four-months-old son, singing songs and cooing at him, feeding him and even trying to get him to talk. That last didn’t work out, but John didn’t mind. John was glad Cynthia had decided to spend the weekend with her family. And that he had Paul to help him out. Without those two things, he doubted he had ever been able to do this. Still, he didn’t complain when Paul took Julian from him when it was time to change his diaper.

When it was time for Julian to go to bed, Paul took him from him and carried him up the stairs as John cleaned the living room. Paul looked down at the boy in his arms, yawning and mumbling sleepily as he tried to keep his eyes open. Honestly, Paul couldn’t blame him. He was exhausted. He had looked after a baby before, but he had forgotten how those little things could drain away your energy. It was almost ridiculous. It was only half past eight and he couldn’t wait to finally go to bed and sleep. Softly, he started to hum a little as he cradled the boy in his arms, petting him gently on the head and stroking his hair. He was such a beautiful little boy. Paul couldn’t wait to get some of them for himself in the future. But not for a long time. Not with the band and everything. A baby was nothing compared to the hours they had made when they had been in Hamburg. Besides, he couldn’t really take drugs to stay awake when taking care of a baby, could he? That might be a little irresponsible.

“If there’s anything that you want. If there’s anything I can do. Just call on me and I’ll send it along, with love from me to you.” Paul sang softly as he walked into the little nursery. There was a cradle right in the middle of it with a comfortable chair next to it and looking a little out of place with the rest of the kid’s decor. Paul supposed Cynthia had put it there after spending many sleepless nights next to Julian while John was away. Careful not to step on any of the those scattered around the small room, he walked over to the cradle, still singing softly.

“I’ve got everything that that you want. Like a heart that’s oh so true. Just call on me and I’ll send it along, with love from me to you.” He sang, gently rocking the boy in his arms and trying to make him fall asleep. The boy giggled sleepily as Paul leaned in to kiss his tiny nose, but soon his eyes fluttered close with another yawn.

“I’ve got arms that long to hold you, and keep you by my side. I’ve got lips that long to kiss you and keep you satisfied.” Paul continued, as the boy’s head fall slack against his chest. The continued rocking Julian for a little while longer, continuing to sing, until he was absolutely  certain he was fast asleep. Carefully he leaned forward, over the cradle and laid the boy carefully down into it, now only humming the melody, hoping for his life he wouldn’t make an unexpected move and wake the four-months-old baby up again.

When he lay soundly asleep in the cradle, Paul continued to watch him for a while, gently tracing the boy’s face with his finger.

“You truly continue to amaze me, Macca.” Paul heard John whisper behind him. He chuckled and when John wrapped his arms around his waist, he leaned back into John’s body, still looking down at the peacefully sleeping baby.

“I love you.” John whispered into his ear, before kissing him there. Paul hummed at that.

“I love you, too, John.”

“I wasn’t talking to you, I was actually talking to Julian.”

“Oh, shut it.”

“I love you, too, though.” John whispered, kissing Paul again and squeezing him gently to make it up to him. Paul merely scoffed.

“You better.” He replied, before turning around and placing a light kiss onto John’s lips, making John moan against him. His fingers gripped tightly at Paul’s clothing, which reminded Paul strangely of Julian. The thought made him giggle.

“You’re going to make such a good dad someday.” John told him as he pulled away with a sigh. Paul looked up at him shyly through his eyelashes, John’s words having warmed his heart. God, he hoped so.

“I’ve always wanted children.” Paul confessed, looking away from John eye’s as he started playing with the buttons of the man’s shirt. “A shitload of them.” He added, making John laugh so loudly, Paul had to shut him up with another quick kiss.

“You’re a natural, Paul. You’ll do great, I’m sure.”

“You’re not so bad yourself, daddy.” Paul said with a naughty giggle and a suggestive wink, making John stutter.

“I-I… No-not with J-Julian in t-the room, luv.” He said, blushing heavily, which made Paul giggle.

“It’s true.” Paul said with a shrug, unwrapping himself from his lover’s embrace. He ran his fingers through his Julian’s hair one last time, before making for the door. “Daddy.” He added cheekily and disappeared quickly before John could respond.

John sighed as he looked down at his son. He looked so handsome and peaceful lying there, obviously having no trouble with him and Paul looking after him with such good care. John leaned down to kiss the top of his son’s head, before he closed the curtains and flicked on a small light in the corner of the room, knowing Julian would be terrified if he woke up in the complete dark. Perhaps he was a good father. Like Paul had told him. He hoped so. He turned off the overhead light and whispered his son good night before leaving him alone to sleep, keeping the door slightly ajar like Cynthia always told him to do.

* * *

 

John found Paul already in bed in the guest bedroom. It was a nice double bed which he and Paul often used to sleep in together whenever he was staying over. He had his face buried in the pillow and was humming sleepily to himself, like he had the tendency of doing when he couldn’t fall asleep quite yet.

“Tired?” John asked knowingly. Paul merely hummed something back at him, being too tired to bother to lift his head, knowing the answer was fairly obvious. John chuckled at that and took off his clothes, stripping down to his underwear, before sliding underneath the covers next to Paul.

“Christ, now I know why Cyn is always so tired in the evenings. I don’t know how she does it.” John said with a loud yawn, checking the nightstand to see if the babyphone was still there. They had a couple around the place, since John would sometimes sleep in the guest bedroom when he got home late and didn’t want to bother his wife. They also had one in the living room, kitchen and their own bedroom, so they wouldn’t miss it if anything was wrong. It was still there. He rolled over and wrapped his arms around the other man, pulling him against him.

“Yes, well, maybe you should help her out more.” Paul muttered into his pillow. John froze against Paul, swallowing thickly, knowing fully well he should help out more. God, he was a terrible father ánd husband.

“John?” Paul asked, having noticed something inside John had changed. John tried to answer, but found he couldn’t, his throat too tight, making it impossible for him to make any sound. Paul frowned when John didn’t answer, and rolled over.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Paul asked as he saw John’s face, sounding worried. “You’re all pale.” Paul noted, extending a hand to lightly stroke John’s cheek, like he had done to Julian just a few minutes ago.

“I-I…” John started, taking in a deep breath as he stared at Paul, “I’m a terrible father.” Paul tutted and shook his head, quickly wrapping his arms around John and pulling him against him. One of his hands he tangled into John’s hair and he soothingly played with it.

“What makes you think that? You’re a great father. I told you, you just need someone to show you.” Paul said, caressing him, but John shook his head.

“No, I’m terrible. I don’t help around the house, I’m always out working and I can’t even take care of my own kid. He’s a baby, for christ’s sake! How can I not-” John said, his voice getting caught in his throat at the end. Paul shook his head again.

“You daft man. You’re great with Julian. You did great today!”

“Yes, because you’re here. You’re great with Julian. I’m… You should be the father here, Macca. Not me. I don’t deserve a child like him. I can’t take care of him. I’m hardly even here. I- I don’t want to be a father who isn’t there for his kids. I want Julian to know me and not only see me as that famous arsehole who he sees more on television than at home. I don’t want him to become-” John stopped himself short, swallowing his words. Only, he didn’t have to say them aloud for Paul to understand. The younger man pulled away from him and took John’s head between his hands, angling his head up so he was looking him straight in the eye.

“Listen to me, Lennon. You’re nothing like your father, you hear me. You shouldn’t doubt yourself. Julian loves you and you love Julian and you’re great with him. You just need to learn to be a father. Which is difficult, but it is that way for everyone.”

“Not for you.”

“Because Julian isn’t my child, John. I’d be scared to death if it was my child. Honestly, I don’t know how you do it. Besides, everyone freaks out when they have a child. I’m sure Cynthia has, too. I bet she didn’t even want to go this weekend and leave Julian alone.”

“She doesn’t trust me.”

“Yes, she does. But she’s a mother, John. Her son is everything to her. It’s against her nature to leave him alone at that age, even if it is with his father. She feels it’s her responsibility to keep him safe and take care of him and make sure nothing bad every happens to him. John, if she didn’t trust you, she would never have left, you hear me.” Paul told John sternly, still looking him deeply into the eye. When John gave a slight nod, he sighed, releasing John’s head.

“John, luv, you’ll be a great dad. I just know it. Even if you need to get used to it, you won’t leave Julian and you won’t be a stranger to him. Just the fact that you care this much tells me that.”

“You really think so?” John asked, still looking up at Paul, smiling faintly. Paul nodded.

“Of course I do.” He said and with that he leaned in, kissing John sweetly on the lips, letting his teeth nibble lightly on his bottom lip as he placed a hand behind John’s neck to pull him closer. John moaned against Paul’s lips, allowing his lips to slide smoothly against Paul’s, his own hands grabbing Paul’s shoulders and pulling him on top of him. Paul let himself be laid down ontop of John and tangled their legs together as he broke the kiss.

“You okay?” He asked and when John nodded, he smiled. He kissed John’s nose, before lying down curled up around John, his head on John’s chest. “Now, let’s go to bed before that child of yours wakes us up.” He said with something that was between a yawn and a chuckle. He reached for the light switch to flick off the nights, before making himself a little more comfortable, wrapping one arm around Paul’s body to keep him closer.

“Night, Paul.” He whispered, closing his heavy eyes.

“Night, daddy.” Paul whispered back teasingly, making John chuckle.

“Would you stop that?”

“Sorry, daddy.”

When John and Paul wake up again it’s to the sound of Julian wailing through the babyphone. Not that they would’ve needed it really. They could even hear him through the walls. John groaned at the sound and rolled over, turning away from the babyphone and pulling the covers over his head. Paul growled in annoyance and, contrary to John, sat up and bed and rubbed his eyes.

“John,” He said, his voice thick with sleep, as he noticed John was  trying to block out the noises his son was making, “John, your son’s crying. Go see what’s wrong, yeah?” He kicked painfully against John’s leg when the man only groaned in reply.

“You go.” John muttered grumpily from beneath the covers, but Paul didn’t give in that easily.

“He’s _your_ son. Remember what you said about being a good father. Checking on him might be as good a place as any to start.” Paul told him with a yawn, covering his mouth his his hand and closing his eyes. When he felt the mattress move besides him followed by the sounds of a grumbling John, he grinned to himself. He laid back down and pulled the covers over him again, rolling around for a little and smiling when Julian’s cries quieten down. Soon his eyelids were too heavy again and fell shut, engulfing Paul once again in a peaceful slumber.

John still mumbled some curses as he stumbled across the hall, rubbing his face with the palm of his hand in a faint attempt to try to get himself more away. When he reached the door the his son’s room, he was wide awake again, but only due to the amount of noise he was making. He sighed, before pushing the door further open. A beam of light from the hallway lit up the cradle.

“Julian? What’s wrong? It’s one in the morning, you know. It’s sleepy sleepy time.” John cooed at his son in a hushed voice, cursing at himself from speaking the way he was. Sleepy sleepy time. He scoffed, finding it almost slightly amusing. Julian however, only continued to cry. Carefully John pushed the blanket off of him and slowly lifted him up, letting him rest against his chest.

“Hey, what’s wrong, then. Daddy’s here now. It’ll be fine.” John tried, as he walked around the room, slowly rocking the child in his arms. The boy seemed to quiet down a little, but he still kept crying softly, his little hands holding onto his father tightly.

“Are you hungry? Is that is?” John asked, remembering Cynthia had told him he’d get hungry after a few hours of sleep, when he had phoned her this evening when Paul had been putting Julian to bed. The boy continued to  cry, but John had the feeling that was the problem. Still, he lifted his son up the air and sniffed at his diaper, checking if it needed changed. He smelled nothing, so he decided he must be hunger.

“Alright. Come on, let’s go and get some food into you, then.” John said, kissing the boy’s head, before carrying him out of the door and down the stairs into the kitchen. He felt relieved he had cleaned everything up this evening. He didn’t want Julian to cry any longer than necessary. Soon he had the bottle ready and fed his son as he carried him back upstairs to continue feeding him there in the chair by his cradle.

When Paul’s eyes opened again, he was still alone in bed. At first he didn’t realise where he was exactly, having slept too heavily for such a short time. He frowned when he realised he was in John’s house and John wasn’t with him. He stared at the spot where John had to be, before realised he must still be with Julian. He got up, pulled on one of John’s robes and tiptoed over to Julian’s room. When he walked inside, he almost gasped at the sight. John was sleeping in the comfy chair, his son sleeping soundly in his arms. An empty bottle lay by his feet. Smiling at the adorable sight the two of them made, Paul silently walked over to them and picked up the bottle, putting it onto one of the shelves that hung on the walls and were filled with all kinds of toys and other baby stuff. After that he took the sleeping baby into his arms and laid it back into his cradle, before carefully waking up John.

“Eh… whe-where…” John mumbled as he slowly opened his eyes. Paul let his hand run through his hair and he looked down at him.

“You fell asleep. Come on, let’s go back to bed.”

“Where’s… Jules?” John asked as Paul took both his hands into his own and helped him stand.

“Shh… he’s sleeping. I put him back. Now, let’s leave before we wake him up.” Paul said and John nodded, taking a quick peek into the cradle and smiling at the sight, before following Paul back to bed.

When they wake up a second time, it’s Paul’s turn to go. He tried to persuade John he doesn’t have to, since he’s only the ‘uncle’, but John simply pushes him out of bed.

“When you’re fucking me, you’re also taking care of the damn baby, Paul. Uncle or not.” He growled as he pulled the covers up over his head. Paul swore softly and rubbed the sore spots on the body as he sat up.

“You’re the one fucking me mostly.” He mumbled, a giggle escaping his lips.

“Same thing. Your turn.”

Luckily, Paul managed to put the boy back to sleep quite easily. He needed his diaper changed and after Paul had sung about four more songs to him, the boy was fast asleep again. When he got back into bed, he noticed it was almost three in the morning. He groaned softly to himself, before slipping back into bed. John didn’t even notice him coming back, sleeping too deeply.

But then, Julian started crying again and John and Paul woke up once again. This time they decided to go together, mostly because John couldn’t walk on his own, and Paul was so disoriented he couldn’t even find the door.

“I take it back what I said. About wanting a shit load of babies.” Paul grumbled as they stumbled across the hall to Julian’s room again. John didn’t even bother to reply. “I want none. Never. They are bad for your health. How could anyone get a desent amout of sleep with this demon waking you up every hour?” Paul continued nonetheless, earning a tired chuckle from John.

This time it wasn’t as easy to quieten Julian down again. He continued wailing, not even stopping to take a breath, no matter what Paul and John tried. They checked his diaper again, even though they couldn’t smell anything, but it was still clean. Paul made Julian some more food as John sat with him at the kitchen table, but the boy wouldn’t take it from either of them. Paul tried singing to him, but he wouldn’t stop crying over it. John tried trying him out with silly faces and his toys, but even that didn’t work. Honestly, they’ve been trying anything for an hour and nothing worked.

“Damn this fucking baby. Isn’t there an off switch or something?” John asked, kicking Julian’s Teddy halfway across the room. Paul sighed as he bounced the crying boy in his lap.

“If there was, I would have found it ages ago, I can promise you that.” Paul mumbled in response, staring at some point on the white wall in front of him.

“I think he misses Cyn.” John spoke after a little while, staring at his son as he let his head rest against the couch.

“You think?” Paul asked, sounding genuine. John nodded and sat up. He reached for the boy, deciding it was his turn to try something again. Paul handed him over without a single complaint.

“I mean. She’s always here with him, before he goes to bed, at night, to feed him, to change his diaper, to sing him songs and to rock him to sleep.” John explained as he picked up one of the smaller toys and tried to make Julian play with it. He only threw it away.

“I’d miss someone like that.” Paul sighed, letting himself slide down a bit more and closing his eyes as he started to take some deep breaths. John hummed in agreement.

“Thank you, though. For doing this with me. I know you could’ve spent your weekend off in a much nicer way than this.  With a pretty bird or something.” He mumbled softly, looking down at his son.

“Well, at least you’re here.” Paul answered with a smile as he turned to face John. John’s eyes widened at that.

“You really mean that?” He asked, smiling broadly when Paul nodded with a light chuckle.

“Of course, I do.” He said. Then it was quiet for a while, neither knowing what to say. Until they realised it had been quiet. John quickly looked down at his son and sighed in relieve when the boy was simply staring up at him with wide eyes, a happy smile on his face.

“He’s quiet!” John exclaimed, tickling the boy under his chin, making him giggle, until it changed into a yawn.

“Thank god!” Paul groaned, throwing his head back and letting himself go slack on the couch. “Let’s not move until he’s gone to sleep.” He suggested and John nodded.

The fourth and last time the pair woke up was late in the morning. The sun was shining into the living room and the clocked chimed ten when Paul opened his eyes again. He was lying on something firm, but warm and he felt something in his hair. When he lifted his head he realised he had fallen asleep ontop of John, their legs intertwined. John’s fingers slipped from his hair as he sat up. Julian was sitting up in his cradle and staring at him. Paul rubbed his eyes and stretched all of his muscles before standing up.

When the phone rang, John jumped up wide awake as well. Paul grinned at him as he looked around with a confused look on his face.

“We’d better bathe him before making him eat something. He might get sick otherwise.” Paul muttered as he leaned in to place a small kiss on John’s lips. The other man smiled against Paul’s and hummed appreciatively.

“When Cyn’s back we’re so going to get together again and have a good old shag.” He mumbled as his cupped Paul’s face in his hand, pulling him in for another kiss. Paul laughed at that and let John for a few seconds, before pulling away again, the phone still ringing persistently.

“Yeah, you arrange that while setting up a bath for your son. I’ll go get the phone.” He said with a wink, before walking away, petting Julian on the head as he passed him.

“Christ, I feel like I haven’t slept at all.” John complained as he lifted up his son. Paul could only hum in response, as he picked up the phone.

“Ello? Lennon’s residence, McCartney speaking.” Paul greeted with another yawn. He didn’t agree with John. This was worse than not having slept all night.

“Paul? What a surprise, or not really. I knew John couldn’t do it by himself.” Cynthia’s voice came from the phone and Paul nearly dropped it in shock.

“Shit.” He cursed, more to himself than to John’s wife, but she still laughed. “You wasn’t supposed to know I was here.” Paul explained, a slight blush creeping up over his cheeks. When he turned around, he noticed John standing in the hallway, looking defeated. When Paul smiled apologetically, he shrugged, before heading up the stairs.

“That’s okay, Paul. I knew you’d be coming over. Motherly instinct, I’d say. Anyway, is John there too? Or has he fled the scene of the crime?” Cynthia asked Paul through the phone and Paul laughed in reply.

“No, actually. He’s still very much here. He’s bathing Julian, even.”

“On his own?”

“Yes. He’s good with him, actually. Just needed some guidance.”

“Yeah, well. Make sure he doesn’t drown him before I get home. I’ll be there within an hour. I hope everything went alright?”

“Oh yes. Fine. Julian missed you, though. Couldn’t sleep a wink all night. Us then, not Jules. He seemed fine once he got calmed down.”

“Poor you. I’m sorry you had to be here, Paul. He’s not your son, after all.”

“No, it’s fine. I enjoyed it. Even the night.”

“Oh. Okay, good. I’m glad to know you were there, though, Paul. To help John. He needed it.”

“You’ll be surprised to see how well he handles Julian. But anyway, Cyn, I have to go now. Check in on John and everything. I’ll say you’ve called.”

“Alright, Paul. See you soon!” And with that Paul hung up the phone with a smile on his face.

“Paul! Paul, you git. Come help! I er… I think I’ve added a bit too much soap.” John called from the bathroom, making Paul chuckle as he walked upstairs.

“You better make sure you’ve cleaned that up before your wife gets here.”

“Cyn? When does she think she’ll be back?” John called, sounding a little worried. Paul merely chuckled again and walked into the guest bedroom to quickly get dressed, so he could pick out something for Jules to wear, before making his bottle.

“In an hour!” He shouted back at John, laughing even louder with John dropped something and cursed, obviously not liking the idea of her returning already.

“Come one, Paul. Please save me?” John asked, half begged.

“No way. You do that, and I’ll get dressed. Besides, I’m not here to take care of two babies.” Paul replied, grabbing his clothes which he had thrown onto the floor the night before. He grinned smugly when John faked a laugh at that.

“I’ll just tell her it’s your fault.”

“As if she’d believe that.” 

“I hate you!”

“No, you don’t.”

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was graciously imported from tumblr by [CJD](https://chut-je-dors.tumblr.com/) who is a good friend and overall pretty amazing. Suck it, Puck


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